


Holy Ground

by bell and clarkey (magdalenehawthorne)



Series: it smells like home (somehow) [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Based on a Taylor Swift Song, F/M, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 13:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4139520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magdalenehawthorne/pseuds/bell%20and%20clarkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke Griffin doesn’t sit out a fun night with her friends just because Bellamy Blake isn’t there, dammit! She’ll dance whether he’s with her or asleep 3,000 miles away, because she’s going to have fun at her best friend’s wedding and then go home and wallow in self-pity for a little while.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holy Ground

**Author's Note:**

  * For [catchawave](https://archiveofourown.org/users/catchawave/gifts).



She’s dancing. She sure as hell doesn’t want to dance, but she’s dancing anyway.  
(The high probability of Raven killing her if she doesn’t is just a small piece of motivation.)

Clarke Griffin doesn’t sit out a fun night with her friends just because Bellamy Blake isn’t there, dammit! She’ll dance whether he’s with her or asleep 3,000 miles away, because she’s going to have fun at her best friend’s wedding and then go home and wallow in self-pity for a little while.  
(She was never good at breakups.)

Octavia is laughing next to her, and Monty is impersonating Jasper doing the sprinkler, and Wick can’t take his eyes off Raven, and Clarke will continue to dance because she might of lost Bellamy but she still has herself.  
(Right?)

Octavia takes her hands and spins her, right into Miller’s arms, who spins her into Harper’s, who spins her into arms that she’s very, very, familiar with.  
(Fuck. She thought he wasn't coming.)

Bellamy hasn’t changed much since that last spoke. Still tall, still muscular, still looking at her like he’s got a thousand words to say and thirty seconds to get them all out.

“We, uh, need to talk,” he says.

“Sure.”

And her heart melts a little bit because he stills pulls out chairs for her and offers to get her a drink and has a smile like sunshine after a thunderstorm.  
(God, she wishes long distance had worked out.)

“You look like you’re having a good time,” he says.

“I am.”

“You always loved to dance.”

“I always loved to dance with you.”

He smiles. “I loved to dance with you too.”

“Then enough chatting, Blake. Let’s go,” Clarke says, as she moves to stand up.

“No, I actually do need to tell you something,” he replies.

“Oh.”

“My boss said that he would be willing to transfer me back to New York-if that’s what I want.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I really like the West Coast, for the short time I’ve been there, but there are things here that I like more. Octavia, good pizza, legitimate bagels, you.”

It’s Clarke’s turn to smile. “It’s good to know that you’ve put me on the same level as New York bagels.”

“I said they were the best!”

“You aren't wrong.”

“And I don’t know if you’ve moved on already or if you just don’t want-”

“I haven’t. Moved on, I mean.”

“Great,” he smiles.  
(It’s far from the smirks he gave her on their first date.)

“Great,” she laughs.  
(It’s a good feeling.)

“Then let’s dance, Griffin,” he says, offering her his hand.

(She hadn’t wanted to dance, but it was only because she didn’t have Bellamy Blake to dance with.)

**Author's Note:**

> Cry with me on tumblr: [bellandclarkey](http://bellandclarkey.tumblr.com)


End file.
